


All I Ever Wanted (Was The World)

by Ranger_Nova



Category: Buzz Lightyear of Star Command (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Implied asexual character, POV Minor Character, more marketing talk than you would expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranger_Nova/pseuds/Ranger_Nova
Summary: She was Vicki Vortex, spokesmodel extraordinaire. Everybody knew her. But only one person understood.
Relationships: Zurg/Vicki Vortex
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	All I Ever Wanted (Was The World)

She spent the day lying in the sun, the ocean lapping at her toes and a fruity drink in her hand; she stood on a balcony, surveying the shore while the wind whipped at her hair; she sat in a casino lounge, her red dress shimmering and her grin wide as the wheel spun. For most people, it would be a dream vacation. For her, it was another day at work.

Vicki Vortex turned her blinding smile off the moment the last shot was snapped and the photographers began hauling away their equipment. She let everyone gush about what a good job she'd done, then she smoothed over her dress and headed to the hotel bar. She still had an hour to kill before her employer showed up.

Her latest bodyguard—an imposing Vulturan with an even more imposing knife strapped to his back—followed behind her and glared at anyone that dared to approach.

"If you want an autograph, write to my agent," Vicki would repeat in a monotone voice to all of them. Having one of the most recognisable faces in the galaxy did have its downsides, but hey, it was a price she was willing to pay.

She took a seat at the bar, ordered a Blue Pulsar, and checked her phone. No new messages. She wasn't surprised, but she was a little disappointed. She took a long sip of the Pulsar when it arrived.

Distant cheers and groans rose regularly from the casino. Vicki ignored them. Only idiots trusted in luck. (Which sounded exactly like something _he_ would say, but she'd known it to be true long before she met him.) She drummed her fingers on the countertop for a while, then pulled a pen from her purse and began scribbling on a paper napkin.

She was almost finished when a loud voice interrupted her work.

"Vicki Vortex! Face to face at last. Good to see ya."

Stealthily slipping the napkin into her purse—she would have to complete the design later—she turned and smiled. "Yo, Mr. Kentrix, I presume?"

"You got it, doll." A Bathyosian in an enviro-suit had entered, two beefy bodyguards in tow and a gorgeous young woman hanging off one of his robotic arms. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Had a little business to wrap up."

"No problem." Vicki hid a smirk. She had expected Keno Kentrix, intergalactic hotel mogul and black market arms dealer, to be a little more impressive in person. He looked like a goldfish in a bowl, and the humanoid girl clinging to him only made the image all the more comical. She had to remind herself that this fish was her current employer, and one of the most powerful men in the galaxy.

_But not_ _the_ most _powerful_ , she thought, and the smirk tugged at her lips again.

"Ooh, hello!" The green-skinned girl detached herself from Keno and held out a hand. "I'm Galaxy. I'm such a big fan of yours, Vicki!"

"Um, thanks." Vicki ignored the hand. "You can write to my agent for an autograph."

The girl simply giggled. "Ooh, I love your hair! You must give me the name of your stylist—you look amazing!"

"Yeah, we just got the photos from the shoot," said Keno. "Good stuff, doll. Welcome aboard."

"You wanted the best, and here I am."

Keno nodded. "I gotta say, Vortex, your last employer sure put in a good word for you. His recommendation's the reason you're here."

"I always leave my customers satisfied," Vicki replied, inspecting her fingernails.

"I’ll bet." There was a snicker in the fish’s voice. "Rumours are floating around about the two of you, you know..."

"Don’t believe everything you hear."

Galaxy grabbed her arm. "Ooh, come on, you can tell us. Everyone knows you've been hanging around him for months. There must be _something_ going on!"

She deftly removed herself from the other woman's grip. "I did some marketing campaigns for him, that's all. You know, my _job_."

Keno looked doubtful. "So there's nothing between you and Zurg?"

"Oh, _please_ ," Vicki snorted. "Do you even know the guy at all? His idea of a good time is watching reruns of Cooking With Cosmo and prank-calling Buzz Lightyear!"

"Not one to appreciate a pretty face then, eh, doll?" Keno laughed.

"I believe that’s your department, Mr. Kentrix." Vicki glanced at Galaxy. "Zurg... has his own hobbies." _And so do I_ , she thought, her mind still on the crumpled sketch in her purse. Reality was always more complex than rumour.

* * *

"Hey, let me go, robo-brains!" Vicki struggled against the pair of yellow robots that were locked around her arms. They remained oblivious to her protests, dragging her on down the corridor. "This jacket cost four thousand uni-bucks! I swear, if you get, like, the _tiniest_ rip in it, I'll—"

"You'll do what?"

They had reached the bridge. Vicki found herself staring up at the enthroned figure of the Evil Emperor Zurg, outlined ominously against the starry sky that filtered through the blastscreen. She gulped and forced herself to meet his burning gaze, determined not to show fear. That was how they won.

"So." The throne lowered on its crane, coming to a stop directly above her. "You're our mysterious new ally."

"And you've just kidnapped me." Finally shrugging off the grip of the Hornets, Vicki folded her arms. "This wasn't part of the deal."

"I don't like secrets—unless I'm the one keeping them. I had to know who I was doing business with." Zurg frowned. "Er... who are you anyway?"

A long, increasingly awkward silence. "You really don't know?" Any anxiety Vicki felt turned quickly to indignation. "Oh come _on,_ where have you _been_?"

There was a cough and one of the Grubs scrambled forward and whispered something to the emperor. Zurg blinked. "Vicki who?"

"Vicki _Vortex_!" She put her hands on her hips. "You know, the most famous spokesmodel in, like, the whole frickin' galaxy!"

He continued to stare at her blankly. "I'll take your word for it," he said at last. Turning to another of his employees, he hissed, "Are you sure we nabbed the right person?"

"You wanted whoever's been designing all that sweet new tech for you, right?" Vicki stepped forward. "Well, guilty as charged."

Zurg raised a brow.

"Yeah, yeah, I know—supermodels are supposed to be dumb as space rocks, right? Too bad." She smiled. "I like making things. Always had the knack."

He seemed not so much surprised as intrigued. "How?" he asked. "That last schematic you submitted was a new targeting system for my plasma warheads. Where would someone like you pick up the knowledge to design something like that? You're light-years ahead of my own R&D department!"

Vicki laughed. "It's funny, y'know. The tabloids all wanna find out my sordid past on Trade World. But I think the truth might disappoint them."

"Which is?"

"I grew up by the shipyards. Spent half my life working as a mechanic for pretty much every drifter, smuggler, bounty hunter, merc, and trader that side of the quadrant. Apprenticed at one of the repair stations. At first it was just the usual patch-up jobs—you know, keeping rusty heaps that belonged on the scrap heap flying a little longer." She paused. "But that got dull fast. I fixed enough lousy engines and laser turrets and navigation systems to realise how much the existing tech sucked. So I began to experiment."

Zurg tapped his talons together. "And?"

She grinned. "I may not be a natural blonde, but I was always a natural with a hydrospanner. Soon I wasn't just fixing stuff—I was making it better than it ever was before. I had all these ideas swirling around my brain, more than I knew what to do with, 'cause the space trash I worked for barely had the uni-bucks for basic repairs, let alone improvements." Her lips formed their trademark pout. "All these revolutionary ideas, and I couldn't test most of 'em out. Where's the fun in that?"

"Why didn't you look for an investor?" said Zurg. "After all, that's why you got in touch with _me._ "

She shrugged. "Didn't have the contacts back then. Besides, the agency found me soon after and that was the end of _that_ career."

"So you chose _modelling_ over becoming one of the greatest engineers the galaxy had ever seen?"

"Yo, engineers are lame, dude. You think anyone notices them? This way I'm rich, adored, invited to all the best parties, and there isn't a single idiot in the whole galaxy who hasn't seen my sexy face staring at them from a magazine cover or a billboard somewhere—well, except for _you,_ apparently."

"Fair enough." Zurg leaned forward. "And yet you still came to me and offered up your designs—why? Clearly not for the money, if your lifestyle is already so extravagant."

She smiled. "Like I said, I wanna know if they work."

"But surely you now have the means to build and test them yourself?"

"Oh yeah, like that's going to fly with my managers. We've spent years working on my image, and it doesn't include getting down and dirty with engine parts. Why do you think I kept my identity secret when I contacted you?"

He chuckled. "I simply assumed you didn't want to risk being associated with the Evil Emperor Zurg."

"That? Pfft. Who cares? My managers would go nuts over the publicity. Half the galaxy may hate you, dude, but the other half really digs the whole dark overlord thing you've got going on." She shrugged. "Hanging around you would only make me cooler. But if they knew why I was here? Not so much. Like I said, people don't want their favourite centerfolds to have brains."

"Hmm. In that case," said Zurg, "perhaps we can make our business arrangement more official, in a way that would benefit us both and still allow you to keep your secret. Spokesmodelling, you said? Ever thought about selling your own products?"

* * *

"Hand me another wrench. The right size this time, you moron." Vicki held out an oil-stained hand and her insectoid assistant passed her the tool. "Cool. Now see what’s taking Brainpod 83 so long with those fusion rods. This sucker needs power before we can run the tests."

"As you command, my... er, my malevolent mistress..."

"I told you, it’s Vicki. Just Vicki. Don’t give me any of that dumb grovelling crap. Dude, you’re not even _my_ minion." Sometimes she wondered where Zurg found these people.

The Grub quivered. "Forgive me, O Vicki, I—"

"Oh, relax, I’m not gonna atomise you or anything. _Gosh_. Now run along already!"

Once the Grub left, she turned back to the hyperspeed fusion engine that lay half-assembled before her. It had been all she could think about for the last week. The idea had come to her out of the blue one morning, as she was staring at the hundreds of shoes lined up in her closet, trying to decide which pair would go best with her new jumpsuit. The alignment was wrong. She'd slapped her forehead. Everyone had been aligning fusion crystals all wrong for decades, and she suddenly knew how to do it right. As soon as the thought flashed through her mind, she’d raced to her notepad and started jotting it down, later spending the breaks during the morning’s photo session furiously refining the design. The goal was to improve the efficiency of traditional fusion drive, getting greater mileage out of the crystals before they burned out. With the price hike in crystals after that recent terrorist incident on Bathyos, she suspected there were quite a few ship owners out there who'd welcome just such an upgrade.

When she was finally satisfied with the design, she'd rushed off to Planet Z and shoved the blueprints at Zurg, demanding the use of his science department to develop it. After some huffing about how she couldn’t just barge in and start ordering him around, he agreed, provided she let him keep the blueprints if it worked. _Fine by me_ , she thought. She was building it to prove she could, for the challenge. What did she care about price hikes? She was rich.

"Having fun?"

Vicki looked up from her work. "Your lackeys are the worst. Like, the _worst_. Half of them get everything I say wrong, and the other half jump at their own shadow. How am I supposed to get anything done?"

"You’ll manage." The evil emperor swept through the doorway, his cape flapping behind him. "How goes the work?"

"Eh, it’s getting there. I am _so_ going to kill Brainpod 83 when he finally shows up with those crystals, though. I’ve been waiting hours!"

"Believe it or not," Zurg sneered, "my employees do have things to do besides helping you. We _are_ running an evil empire here, you know!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hand me that bonding strip."

She received a glare from the emperor, but he tossed the molecular metal bonder to her. Circling around the room, Zurg appraised her work. "Hmm. It’s finally starting to look promising. How soon will it be ready?"

"Soon enough. When we have power we’re gonna run some tests, see how good the performance is." She wiped a greasy hand across her forehead. "Wanna stay and watch?"

He shook his head. "Oh no, I’m much too busy for that. Worlds to conquer, taxes to do, that sort of thing. Just thought I’d drop by and see if you were making progress. You are using _my_ lab and _my_ resources, after all."

"And _you're_ the one who's gonna make a profit off this." She shook her head. "I bet you were the kid who hated sharing his toys in kindergarten."

"That's the whole point of being an evil emperor. Everything is mine."

She laughed. "Having stuff's not the fun part, it's getting people to _give_ it to you. And I'm really good at that."

Zurg snorted. "Personally, I've found the right amount of firepower can persuade people to do anything. No special skill required."

"Yeah, but making them do it freely is way more satisfying."

"Clearly you've never felt the satisfaction of conquering a planet."

"I've never had to." Vicki grinned. "I already get everything I want. Now pass me that fusion calibrator."

* * *

"I can’t believe Darkmatter talked me into this again!" Zurg tried to straighten the bowtie around his neck, before finally giving up and ripping it to shreds with his claws. "I know he only makes me go so he can hang out at the buffet!"

"Aw, come on, Zurg." Warp entered the room, dressed in a well-fitted black tuxedo. "Don’t you want to mingle with all those other dictators and crime bosses? I thought you liked rubbing it in that you're so much better than they are."

The emperor scowled. "You know I hate parties, Darkmatter. There are only so many torture stories I can tell before the small talk starts to grow stale, and they never serve those little things on the sticks that I like!"

"Then why don’t you cancel?" Vicki straightened the creases from her cocktail dress. She still wasn't sure if she'd chosen the right one. It was hard to know what to wear to what was apparently the villainous social event of the year—a gathering of all the major underworld powers of the galaxy to socialise, strengthen political ties, and make new allies—especially when you were going with someone like the Evil Emperor Zurg. Of course, she'd only been invited because Warp said he was tired of people mistaking _him_ for Zurg’s date (which was apparently preventing him from scoring with anyone else), and so Zurg had reluctantly asked her along to stifle his henchman's whining. It was still _really_ frickin' cool though. There were few things Vicki liked better than being invited to ultra-exclusive parties.

"It’s too late to cancel now," Zurg sighed. "The last thing I need is for those pathetic nobodies to start gossiping about me behind my back if I don’t show up. They'll say it's because of that vegetable fiasco on Jo-Ad. I stand by that plan! It was Lightyear's fault for ruining everything as usual! Anyway, Darkmatter, get the shuttle ready. And don't do anything to embarrass me this time!"

"Why do you always say that?"

"Because you always do!"

Vicki put her hands on her hips. "And what am I gonna do?"

" _Nothing_ , I hope. Keeping an eye on my so-called number one agent is hard enough."

"Yeah, but I’m not some meathead henchman, right?" Taking a compact mirror from her bag, Vicki checked her mascara. "I mean, dude, if there’s one thing I know, it’s parties. You wanna impress these idiots? Just follow my lead. I’ll have them all eating out of your hand!"

"No offence, but I think I'll pass on that."

Vicki rolled her eyes. "Do you _ever_ have fun? Like, besides when you’re sticking little kitty-cats up trees to mess with your Space Ranger boyfriend?"

"I’ll have you know I play bingo twice a week!"

She sighed. It looked like she had her work cut out for her.

When they arrived at the soirée's secret location, Vicki immediately assumed her well-practiced party smile, while Zurg's ever-present scowl only deepened. He was clearly on edge as he entered the room, both hands clenched into fists. She thought about reminding him that, as her date, the chivalrous thing to do would've been to offer her his arm rather than maintaining a cold two-foot distance like she had the Garzanian plague, but she decided against it. It was still preferable to the behaviour of some of her dates. The last guy she’d gone out with had had his hands all over her until she made good use of her six-inch stilettos, and before that she'd had to spend an evening listening to Brent Starkisser, a man so in love with sound of his own voice that she was certain he recited news reports in his sleep.

Yeah, she was beginning to remember why she didn't date much. This would be her first proper night out in months.

"Well, see you, Emperor Z." Warp gave Zurg a playful salute and immediately parted from the group, heading for the far end of the buffet table where an attractive Nuzonian was helping herself to Bathyosian caviar.

"Remember what I said!" Zurg called after his henchman. "Behave yourself, Darkmatter!"

Some of the guests had begun noticing their arrival, and a few wandered over. They were a mixed lot, from crime bosses to mercenaries to planetary dictators. Vicki recognised a few from the news, and some of the names rang a bell from the old days on Trade World, but most were complete strangers to her.

"Ah, Emperor Zurg!" A human with badly combed red hair and a tuxedo that was protesting around the waist stuck out his hand in a wave. "What a privilege to meet you again!"

Vicki saw Zurg's eyes narrow and glow brighter. "Rentwhistle Swack," he said the name like a curse. "I knew standards were low, but how did no-name scum like _you_ get invited?"

The man smiled nervously. "It’s amazing where a generous financial contribution to the catering will get you. I just had to get myself in when I heard you were going to be here—Emperor Zurg himself!"

"Evil Emperor Zurg."

"Er, yes, Evil Emperor, my apologies. Listen, Zurg, I know we got off on the wrong foot last time, and I’m willing to admit it was slightly my fault—well, all right, mostly my fault—but if you’ll just hear me—"

Zurg looked down on him as if he were an unpleasant stain on the floor. "I suggest you remove yourself, now, before I contribute _you_ to the catering. I hear the Rexon warlord has a particular liking for human flesh."

Swack swallowed and wiped a hand over his brow. "Er, well, yes, sure, you probably want to enjoy the party. I understand. We’ll talk business later." He scampered away as fast as his short legs would carry him.

"Friend of yours, huh?" Vicki drawled.

"Hardly, unless by 'friend' you mean 'insufferable sycophant'. People think if they suck up to me enough, they'll get something out of it." Zurg rolled his eyes. "They forget who I am."

They strolled on through the room, greeting the other guests. A few stopped Zurg to talk, but he always brought the conversations to a close as swiftly as possible. It was clear he thought the lot of them beneath him, and Vicki couldn’t blame him. It was a feeling she knew well. Sometimes she had to do photo shoots with other models, and every one of them looked like the back end of a moozle compared to her. It was downright insulting to stand beside them like they were anywhere _near_ her level.

"Yo, Zurg!" The gruff voice belonged to a yellow, four-armed alien. "Good to see ya, sweetheart!"

Zurg acknowledged him with a nod. "Torque. Out of prison again, I see."

"Yeah, me and the boys busted out last week. Who knew it was so easy to smuggle grenades into PC-7?" Torque grinned. His gaze fell on Vicki. "Oh wow, who’s this, baby? Nice catch, Jack!"

"Excuse me." Vicki stepped forward and faced the thug. "I’m _Vicki Vortex_ , galactically-renowned _supermodel_."

Torque held up his upper set of hands. "Didn't mean to offend ya, baby!" He turned back to Zurg. "I gotta hand it to ya, Emperor Z. I never woulda thought you'd show up with a date, let alone a supermodel. Way to go, sweetheart!"

"Vortex is a business partner of mine," Zurg replied.

"Oh, suuure." Torque winked.

Zurg looked at him blankly and moved on, taking Vicki with him. She frowned.

"You know, you’re really, like, super bad at this. You want to show these guys you’re better than them, right?"

"I already know I’m better than them."

"But you want _them_ to know it too, don’t you?"

"Your point?"

She sighed. "You’re at a party with a supermodel—no, not just a supermodel, with _me._ Me, Vicki Vortex! Do you know how many guys would _kill_ just to get my phone number, let alone go out with me? And you're gonna call me your _business_ _partner_?"

"Well, you are _._ That's why you're here, after all. I didn't know anyone else to ask!"

"That's not the point! And definitely don't go spreading around how pathetic your social life is." She sighed. "As far as these losers are concerned, you're on a date with the sexiest woman in the galaxy—probably the universe, but my lawyer won't let me make that claim. Gloat a little! Isn't that what you're supposed to be good at?"

He shook his head. "You don't get it, do you, Vortex? I'm here strictly on business. As pathetic as these riff-raff are, they have their uses. Never turn down a good networking opportunity, I always say. And yes, I want to impress them, but with my empire, my _power_ _._ As for what they think about my personal life, I really don't care!"

Vicki tilted her head, studying him. He seemed completely serious. "You're right, I don't get you, Zurg," she said at last.

"That's Evil Emperor Zurg," he corrected wearily. "And the feeling's mutual."

"I'll leave you to it then, I guess." She shrugged and slipped away into the crowd. A waiter offered her a glass of champagne, which she accepted gladly. Leaning against a marble pillar as she sipped, she surveyed the room. Zurg was now talking to some Raenok mercenaries, and Warp was still at the buffet table, a plate full of snacks in hand. The other guests milled about, some in conversation with each other, but most hanging near the emperor, apparently waiting for a chance to speak with him.

Zurg was right, Vicki thought. They were all beneath him and they knew it, and were just desperately hoping to ride his coattails. His empire represented the only serious opposition to the Galactic Alliance. The rest of them were nothing.

As Vicki didn't care for politics or business herself, the conversations around her soon grew dull. She ended up checking her vidphone (no new messages—good, because no one besides her agent was supposed to have her number) and fending off attempts at small talk (quite literally) from several Gargantians, who wanted to know how she felt being a symbol of the decadence and hedonism of modern society. Eventually she lost interest in the scene altogether—as parties went, this one was a drag—and went to the bathroom to fix her make-up.

Setting her purse on the counter and fishing out a tube of lipstick, she carefully traced it over her mouth as she pouted at the mirror. It was Sirenian Candy, which was her trademark shade and cost seven hundred uni-bucks a pop, so the Gargantians probably had a point about that decadence of society thing, not that she cared.

There was a knock on the door. "Vortex, you in there?"

"Yeah. What d'you want? Time to go already?"

"I wish." The door swiped open and Zurg took a hesitant step inside. "I did, however, secure several interested parties for that little expo we were talking about yesterday."

"Cool." Vicki put down the lipstick. "Name a date, and I'll start setting up the demos."

"Excellent!" Zurg clapped his hands together. "They were particularly intrigued when I told them about the new fusion engine. I trust you'll be there to help seal the deal when the time comes?"

"Wouldn't miss it. I'm your official spokesmodel, remember?"

He nodded.

"So, uh, was that all you wanted?" she asked.

"Yes. I thought you'd be interested. Given all the work we've put into this—"

"Oh, I am," she laughed. "This is the ladies' room though."

"So? You're the only one here."

"Even more scandalous. Imagine what people are gonna think."

"That I had important business to discuss with you?"

Vicki could never tell if he was genuinely obtuse, or just pretended to be. "Yeah. That." She turned back to the mirror and studied her reflection. "Anyway, think I need more mascara?"

"I couldn't say," he sighed. "I don't know why you wear it at all."

"'Cause I want to look good. _Duh._ "

"And it helps, does it?"

"Hey, no one wakes up with a face like this. It's hard work."

He tapped his mouth as he watched her apply more make-up. "You know, Vortex," he mused, "your life would be a lot simpler if you cared less what other people thought."

She paused. "Is this another attempt to sign me on full-time to your R&D department?"

"Are you interested?"

"Are you kidding me? No way."

Zurg planted his hands on the countertop, tapping irritably on the marble surface. "Why not? I've told you, I can pay you far more than this pathetic little career of yours ever will, no matter how famous you may be!"

"It's not about the money!" Vicki turned around. "Gosh, how many times do we have to go through this? And it's not about _what_ people either! I don't give a crap whether they love me or hate me!" She took a deep breath. "What matters is that they _are_ thinking about me."

"And you think your adoring public would forget you so quickly?"

"Look, personally, I think engineering is frickin' cool! But it doesn't earn you a lot of magazine covers, does it?" She folded her arms. "I worked hard to be Vicki Vortex, spokesmodel extraordinaire—to be _somebody_ —and I'm not about to give that up."

"It matters that much to you?"

"Identity is everything," she said. "Isn't that right, _Evil Emperor_ Zurg?"

He almost seemed to smile. "Touché."

"Anyway," she shrugged, "this whole double life thing is way more fun. Supermodel by day, evil genius by night. What's not to love?"

"You could be so much more, though."

"I'd be nobody! Just another of your lackeys. I'd be like the rest of the losers here, living in your shadow!"

"You were a nobody on Trade World. You survived well enough."

Vicki's eyes flitted back to the mirror. She saw smooth brown skin, perfectly contoured and made-up; glossy pink hair expertly styled to frame her features; a flawless white smile; diamond earrings that cost more than some starships; the unnaturally blue eyes she'd asked for when she was having her myopia fixed. She saw a face that would've been unrecognisable to her seven years ago. "Surviving sucks," she said. "I deserve better—always have."

"Interesting," the emperor mused, propping himself up on the countertop and dangling his well-concealed legs over the edge. "Some would disagree that anyone deserves anything at all."

"What about you?"

"I don't think it matters." He steepled his hands. "It's up to us to take our due for ourselves."

"Easy when you're an evil emperor," said Vicki. "Not so much for a hungry kid growing up on the streets."

Zurg looked down at her. "You think I always had an empire? You think I always had the galaxy trembling in fear before me?"

"Maybe, I dunno. You're kind of an institution."

"I've been fighting all my life for this," he insisted. "And I have to keep fighting every day to ensure no one _ever_ takes it from me."

"Hey, so do I," Vicki told him. "It may not seem important to you, but there's always some new bitch out there who thinks she can be the next _me_ , and it's gonna get harder every year to stay on top." Her upcoming thirtieth birthday loomed like a dark cloud in her mind. "I won't be able to do this forever. Some day the galaxy will stop caring, and there'll be nothing I can do about it. But until then I'm Vicki frickin' Vortex, and I won't let anyone forget it."

Nodding slowly, Zurg said, "You're a fascinating person, Vortex. I've never met anyone so self-absorbed who wasn't trying to conquer a planet and name it after themself. It's remarkable."

"What would I do with a planet?" Vicki laughed.

"Whatever you want." His yellow smile gleamed. "That's the point."

"Sounds too much like work." She put a hand on her hip. "I just wanna have a good time. What grand plans do _you_ have for this dumb galaxy, if you ever conquer it?"

" _When_ I conquer it," Zurg sniffed, "I'll raise it to heights the Galactic Alliance could never dream of. None of this ridiculous incompetence you see from the likes of Star Command. It needs a firm hand to whip it into shape, someone with vision."

Vicki considered for a moment. "I'd ban flannel. That's what I'd do if I ruled the galaxy."

He chuckled. "Well, when I achieve my victory, consider it done."

"See, I don't need to conquer any planets. I've got you." There was a long, easy silence, and then Vicki shrugged. "Guess we should probably rejoin the party, huh?"

"I suppose." Zurg's gaze drifted down to her purse. "Although... you don't have any eye shadow in there, do you?" He waved a hand. "It's just that the Grubs in PR have been telling me I've been looking a little tired around the eyes lately, you know how fussy those people can be, and..."

"Are you asking for a makeover?" Vicki couldn't help giggling.

"Nothing drastic," he warned.

"Don't worry, I think I've got some purple—we'll go for subtle." She opened her purse. "You know, this, like, really isn't how I figured this evening would go."

"Me neither. Personally, I expected Darkmatter to have done something to get us kicked out by now."

They both laughed. It had been a long time since she'd last had a proper laugh, Vicki realised. It was nice.

* * *

Huffing as she turned down another corner, Vicki noted with annoyance that Planet Z's corridors had more twists to them than the morning's tabloid article claiming she'd been replaced by an android duplicate five months ago. Why would you build a palace _so big_ and then not install some kind of freakin' internal transit system? Did Zurg _like_ walking everywhere? Well, if he did, it was probably because _he_ wasn't wearing eight-inch heels.

At last she emerged onto an open catwalk leading to Cell Block Z, where she'd been informed she could find the emperor. At the end of the walkway, leaning against the door lazily, was Warp Darkmatter.

"Yo, Zurg in there?" she demanded.

He looked up. As usual, his first glance was one that swept over her appreciatively, but it only lasted a second, and then he nodded. "Yeah. But you don't want to go in."

"Huh, yeah, and I listen to you since when?" She rolled her eyes. "I need to talk to Zurg."

"He's busy."

"He's _always_ busy," she whined. "I don't care. I wanna see him."

Warp sighed. "He's in the middle of an interrogation. One of his operatives on Trade World turned out to be a spy for the Galactic Alliance."

"Whatever, don't care." She tried to push past him.

"Zurg doesn't like being interrupted," Warp warned, blocking her path.

"He doesn't like being interrupted by _you_ ," said Vicki. "I'm different."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yeah, I do."

Standing aside, Warp folded his arms. He was looking at her with something that seemed almost like pity now. It irritated her. "Listen, lady, Zurg's not your friend."

"Dude, I've been in the modelling industry for seven years. I _know_ I can't trust anyone but myself. _Duh._ That's how life works."

Warp shrugged. "I'm just saying. Zurg's someone you keep on the good side of, know what I mean?"

"Hey," Vicki laughed, "if there's one thing I know, it's wrapping people around my finger. It's part of my job, right?"

"It's never that simple with Zurg."

"I can handle him," she insisted. "Now let me see him."

"Did you miss the part where I mentioned he's torturing someone in there?"

Vicki raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you're out here? Couldn't handle it?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah, watching several hundred volts zap through someone's skull isn't exactly my idea of fun," said Warp. "Which is why I told Zurg I'd stand out here and make sure _no one bothered him._ "

"Uh-huh, well, you're failing miserably as usual." She pushed him away with a manicured nail and slammed her palm on the door control.

The cell block was predictably grim and gloomy within, not that that made it much different from the rest of Planet Z. Vicki found Zurg at the far end, flanked by Hornets and minions as he addressed some hapless soul strapped to a table. He paused mid-sentence and turned around. His eyes narrowed. "Vortex. Not a good time."

"Too bad." As she stepped closer, she glanced at the table again. The prisoner was a Shragarakian, one of those horrid furry things that always smelled like wet dog and seemed to shed everywhere they went. She'd never liked them. This one was panting, his fur clumped with sweat and what may have been blood, but still straining defiantly against his restraints. Vicki wondered how long Zurg had been questioning him.

The emperor sighed. "Couldn't you have just scheduled an appointment with my PA? I keep telling you we have a system here, but no, you just barge in whenever you feel like it." He paused and tilted his head. "Wasn't your hair blue?"

"That was yesterday." She twirled a silver lock. "Look, Zurg, we need to talk. You're doing that expo next week, right?"

"Yes." Zurg absently flicked a switch on a nearby console and the Shragarakian let out shrill howl as his body convulsed with electricity. "You'll be presenting it."

"Wrong."

Zurg raised a brow. "This is your work. We both agreed you'd be the best person to oversee the demonstrations."

"Yeah, well, change of plans," she shrugged. "I got invited by Marie Celestial to her big concert on Verdentia and then we're partying, like, the whole weekend. I mean, sure, I hate her guts, but she's my friend. And it's gonna be awesome!"

"You'd rather go to a _concert_ than show off the destructive power of our new range of hyperbombs?" Zurg had to raise his voice to be heard above the ongoing screams. "You'd miss the demonstration for _that_?"

"Have you ever been to a Marie Celestial after-party? I'll give you a hint, it's _nothing_ like that boring gig you took me to. This is the real deal! They say if you can remember a Marie Celestial party, you weren't at one. Sure beats haggling about lasers with a bunch of thugs over lukewarm coffee and stale doughnuts!"

For a while Zurg said nothing, merely turning up the voltage and drumming his fingers on the control panel. "Getting this contract is important," he told her finally. "Several of these crime bosses have systems along my border that they're willing to trade in exchange for the technology we've been developing. I'm expanding my empire! And you said you'd help!"

"I didn't have plans then."

"And this is really what you'd rather be doing?" Zurg shook his head. "How... disappointing. I could hold you to your deal, you know—you _are_ my official brand ambassador, after all—but what's the point? Go then. As usual, I'll have to do everything myself around here."

Vicki hesitated. When Zurg had asked her to assist with the demonstration, it had pleased her. Not that she had an ego or anything, but she liked getting to show off her own creations. She also liked it when Zurg trusted her with important tasks. She had earned a lot of things from a lot of people—love, hate, lust, jealousy, disapproval, you name it—but respect was rare. For the first time in her life, she realised she'd met someone she didn't want to disappoint. She took a step forward.

But no. Tech expos with evil emperors were for boring nerds, and she was Vicki Vortex. Vicki Vortex was cool, and Vicki Vortex didn't turn down wild weekends on Verdentia to talk about fusion engines. That would be crazy. "See you around," she shrugged, and turned away.

Behind her, she heard Zurg switch off the electric current. "Enough of that," he muttered to his minions. He still sounded angry. "He's not going to tell us anything more, and this is growing tiresome." And then she heard the power come back on in full, and the smell of burning hair trailed behind her.

* * *

"And up next is something that will _really_ make an impression, especially on your enemies." Zurg was struggling to maintain a steady, conversational tone. Forty minutes was too long to be friendly to anyone, and there were still two hours to go. His guests certainly weren't making it any easier, with the listless looks they were shooting each other. He pulled the sheet off a mini cannon standing at the end of the firing range, gesturing for the party to have a closer look. "The destructive power of this little beaut will have your foes trembling at your feet!"

"Isn't any different from the last one," muttered an Octopoidal thug.

The Valkyrans weren't even trying to hide their boredom as they yawned and kept walking. Only a Vulturan arms dealer spared it more than a passing glance. "Very slick," she said, running a feathered hand over the reflective terrillium casing, "but I already have my own ion cannons on the market. Why should I buy the schematics for this one from you? Waste of money. I'd have to start a whole new production line. What's the point?"

"Did any of you even _read_ the pamphlets I gave you?" Zurg's tone slipped. "Everything's in there. If you actually bothered to look, you'd see this weapon has twenty times the accuracy of any other cannon of its class currently in production, and half the recharge time!"

"We did not come here to read." Brun, leader of the Valkyrans, tossed the booklet over her shoulder. "We want to see the raw power of a weapon fired—we want to feel the weight of it in our hands, witness with our own eyes what this arsenal you offer us can truly do. And so far, we are not impressed."

They were all looking at him expectantly. Zurg wasn't sure how much longer he could keep using his indoor voice. They were such... such mindless _morons_! He had set up this whole thing as a courtesy. He didn't _need_ to play nice with them. He was the Evil Emperor Zurg—if he wanted to take their worlds, he could! It was just easier doing it this way. No need to waste resources on petty squabbles, after all. But no, they had to be _difficult_ _._

"Listen," he began, "you worthless—"

"If it's a demonstration you want, then what are you waiting for?" Heels clicked on metal flooring as a familiar figure sauntered in. "That's why we're all here, right?"

Zurg stared at Vicki as she slipped her way through the group. She winked at him. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic's a bitch. So," she turned back to the guests, a wide smile plastered across her face, "who wants to go first? Don't be shy, this is a testing range! Who wants to blow something up?"

Several hands rose, and Vicki pointed to one of them. "You look like a tough guy," she told the Octopoid. "This'll be child's play to you. Come over here and give it a whirl."

One by one the guests took turns at the cannon, and Zurg could feel the mood in the room shifting already. He'd run a few demonstrations before Vicki had shown up, but those had left his audience cold. Somehow, they seemed far more engaged now that Vicki had draped herself against the side of the cannon and was going over all the new features (that were _right there_ in the pamphlet!) in a breathy voice.

Zurg couldn't remember ever seeing her go so long without at least one bored eyeroll. Painful as it was to admit, she was clearly better at this than he was. Perhaps the difference was that she seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Of course, it's not all just about weaponry," she was continuing. "We've got harmonic resonant shielding, multi-spectrum long range scanners, and a new crystallic fusion hyperdrive engine that's both faster and more efficient than traditional models." Her hands reached up to caress an exposed engine the Grubs had just wheeled in on a trolley. "This sexy little number will nearly double the lifetime of your crystals—that's right, _double—_ without compromising on performance. Right this way we have a shuttle, fully equipped with all these awesome upgrades, just waiting for you to test it out. Who wants to take me for a ride?"

There were, once again, many eager volunteers. Zurg stayed with the main group while Vicki took the prospective clients out one by one for a short hyperdrive jump around the system. When the demonstration was finally over, he decided it was time to take control again. He ushered the group to a table, where a hologram projector cycled through all the merchandise they had just seen, and gestured to a Grub holding a datapad. "So, shall we begin negotiations?"

Vicki took a seat beside him, continuing to beam at everyone with what appeared to be a benign smile, though Zurg knew her well enough by now to doubt there was anything benign about her. Whenever one of the guests made eye contact with her, she seemed to giggle softly or chew her lip or even wink back at them. The emperor found their attention kept drifting away from him as he tried to hammer out the details of the trade agreement.

"And which of the spectacularly devastating weapons we saw displayed today can I put you down for, Mr. Zornak?" he addressed a Delrubian renegade.

"All of them," the green man replied, dragging his many eyes off the model. "Competition is getting tough out on the rim, and my planets need protection."

"Excellent!" Zurg tapped his fingers together. "Now, such an investment never comes cheap, but I think you'll find my terms very generous. I'm prepared to offer all the schematics plus one shipload of working samples in exchange for those three barren, inhospitable moons you own in the Zeta Quadrant. A bargain if ever there was one!"

Zornak hissed. "Do you take me for a fool, Zurg? Those moons are worth double that, easily!"

"Those useless lumps of rocks? You should be grateful I'm taking them off your hands!"

"And I suppose you know nothing about their rich deposits of terrillium ore?" The Delrubian shook his head. "You'll have to come up with a better offer than that if you expect me to hand them over."

There was a soft, metallic screeching as Zurg dragged his nails over the surface of the table. "I can think of several _extremely_ persuasive offers," he said, finally letting his voice rise to a more satisfying volume. "Such as do it OR I PLUCK YOUR EYEBALLS OUT ONE BY ONE AND START MAILING THEM BACK TO YOUR MILITIA! How does that strike you?"

Zornak seemed to inch backwards in his chair. "Look, I, er, I didn't come here to be threatened..." he began.

"Relax, Mr. Zornak," Vicki giggled. "The evil emperor is kidding. You're absolutely right—that ore is, like, super valuable. Buuut," she pouted, "I'm afraid we can only offer a limited amount of stock to a limited number of people. It's _very_ exclusive. If you aren't interested, that's totally fine! We can find other buyers. I'm just sad you'll be missing out on this special opportunity..."

"Well, er, I... I suppose I shouldn't be hasty." He shrugged. "I don't have enough mining teams to strip those moons anyway. All right, Zurg, it's a deal."

Zurg smiled. "Stupendous. Sign right here, please. Now, who's next?"

The rest of the buyers were considerably more cooperative, and Zurg noticed Vicki batting her eyelashes encouragingly each time someone was on the verge of sealing the deal. When it was all over, the model thanked each guest profusely for coming, and Zurg made arrangements with his Grubs to begin supplying the promised merchandise. Then, once all the riff-raff had left, he tapped a few commands into the holo projector, and the image floating above the desk changed.

Vicki stepped closer. "What's that?"

He chuckled. "A map of my empire—just updated." He traced a finger through the air, following the course of his new border. "Fifteen fresh systems, all of them mine now."

"Cool."

"More than I was expecting to get." He switched it off. "Then again, I was under the impression I would be handling this alone."

"Life's full of surprises, isn't it?"

"What are you doing here, Vicki?"

She shrugged. "You asked me to come."

"And you said you wouldn't."

"Yeah, well. Once you've blacked out at one Marie Celestial party, you've blacked out at 'em all, right? It's no big deal." She looked away, running a hand through her lurid green hair. It was the first time he'd ever known her to avoid his gaze. "Besides, I knew I couldn't count on _you_ to do my work justice."

"I'll have you know I was doing just fine before you showed up."

Her eyeroll was back in full force. "Uh-huh."

"It's not my fault they're all idiots. I put a lot of work into that pamphlet, you know. I don't think they even _looked_ at the infographic!" Zurg paused. "I do... appreciate your assistance, however."

"Eh, I just hope it was worth missing the luau Marie was throwing this evening. I had the perfect outfit planned. And I'm starving," she laughed, glancing around the room. "Any stale doughnuts left?"

Sweeping across to the door, Zurg held out his hand. "Come, Vortex. I'll buy you dinner."

"Wait, really?"

"My treat."

"Sweet." She joined him at the door.

"Ever been to Pizza Planet?"

"Pizza Planet?"

"I've still got two discount tokens."

She snorted. "Should've figured you'd be a cheap date. Sure, let's go."

* * *

"Ugh, are we there yet?" Vicki paced across the cabin of the luxurious Nebula X-19 that was ferrying her to her destination. "We've been flying for, like, hours."

"Yes," the autopilot sighed. "This time I can finally report that we are there."

They swooped into the Luma 9 docking bay. When Vicki stepped off the ship, she was greeted by four Space Rangers.

"Welcome to Luma 9, ma'am," Buzz Lightyear addressed her. It was her first time meeting him, but he certainly needed no introduction. "We will be overseeing your security during this event."

Vicki frowned. "Don't you Rangers have better things to do? Like, I dunno, issuing parking tickets?"

"Normally, Luma 9's security staff could handle this themselves," admitted Lightyear, "but with so many high profile figures on the station right now, Star Command thought it would be wise to lend a hand. Besides," he smiled, "I'm also here as one of the celebrity guests."

"Sure. Great." She pointed to the trunk of the ship. "You can take my bags to my suite."

Buzz's smile dropped slightly, but he gestured to two of his Rangers, a Jo-Adian and a robot, and they began unloading the luggage.

"And be careful!" Vicki called over her shoulder as she marched out the hangar.

"What's in here?" the robot groaned. "You're only staying one night!"

"I need something to wear to the gala, don't I?"

"So you brought six suitcases?" The last Ranger, a Tangean, raised an eyebrow.

"I like to have options."

"Yes. Well, anyway," Lightyear led the group down the station's halls, "your quarters are just over here, second door to the left. We've seen to all the security arrangements."

Vicki entered the room and immediately flopped on the sofa. "Wow, that really fills me with confidence."

"Of course," said the robot, sidling up to the sofa, "if you need a personal guard as well..."

"I don't."

"Come on, rookie," Lightyear said. "We have other guests to attend to. Call us if you need anything, Miss Vortex. We'll you see you at the gala tonight."

Vicki sighed as they left. She couldn't wait for the stupid gala to be over. Sure, she was going to be on TV, but so would wannabes celebrities like the quarterback from the Alpha Rockets and Buzz frickin' Lightyear of all people. The man was just a glorified cop, like come on! And worst of all, the whole thing was for _charity_.

The look on Zurg's face when she told him about it almost made it worthwhile, though. His mood had been bad enough after what had happened on Roswell (which he still insisted on referring to as Planet Z East), and when he'd heard the gala was in aid of the planet's reconstruction efforts, he seemed to somehow turn an even deeper shade of purple.

But despite his protests and her own lack of interest, Vicki had agreed to participate in the event, if only because the alternative—all these C-listers getting the attention while she didn't—was even worse. Besides, what did she care if it was to help Roswell? That was Zurg's beef; she couldn't even point to the planet on a map. She'd enjoyed helping him perfect the crystallic self-perpetuating breeder construction core, but all she'd wanted was the satisfaction of knowing it worked, and she'd gotten that. So what if Lightyear had shut it down immediately afterwards?

Buzz Lightyear himself wasn't quite what she'd expected. She'd seen him on the news, and Zurg went on about him constantly, but he seemed to be just, like, a regular person. She didn't get what the big deal was. Her own latest nemesis, Tiffany Meridian, was easily more threatening.

Vicki reluctantly pulled herself from the chair and decided it was time to begin choosing what she would wear, as the gala was only nine hours away (barely any time at all for such a task). Luckily she had her personal stylist on speed dial.

She ended up in a striking lilac jumpsuit with matching accessories, and had just finished touching up her make-up when the Tangean Ranger arrived to escort her to the event.

"You ready?" she asked.

"To listen to a bunch of boring people drone on all night? Absolutely not. But let's go."

The other woman shrugged. "At least it's for a good cause."

"Yeah." Vicki smiled. "Raising my public profile."

When they got to the convention hall, the guests were beginning to trickle in and the TV crew were setting up. Lightyear was already seated with the other celebrity hosts at the main table. He gestured to the chair beside him.

It was, unfortunately, the only remaining seat, so she was forced to take it. Some of the other celebrities introduced themselves to her, but if she hadn't known who they were before, she certainly wasn't going to learn their names now. The quarterback leaned across the table to shake her hand and tried to casually whisper his room number in the her ear, and she had to nod along politely because she wasn't sure if the cameras were rolling yet.

Out the corner of her eye, she could see the other Rangers patrolling the room. _Our tax uni-bucks at work_ , she thought. Did they really think there was any threat to the gala, or was it just an excuse for a quiet night and free food?

The TV crew signalled that the broadcast was about to begin, and the first celebrity host, a Rhizomian actress, rose to present the introduction. It would still be at least an hour before it was Vicki's turn in the spotlight (she'd been lumped with hosting an auction segment), so she had to simply sit and smile and try not to go out of her mind.

"Quite a turnout," Lightyear whispered beside her, looking out at the crowded dining hall. "We shouldn't have any trouble reaching our goal."

"Yeah, whatever."

"You don't support the Roswell cleanup effort?"

Her smile remained fixed. "Of course I do. That's why I'm here, right?"

"Presumably."

She detected a note of suspicion in his voice. "I love the little blue guys," she insisted. "Who doesn't?"

"They're green."

"Whatever."

"And I'm sure the Evil Emperor Zurg doesn't care for them."

"So?"

Lightyear shrugged. "Well..."

"Well what?"

"Nothing, ma'am."

Vicki leaned in. "Come on, Ranger," she whispered. "You got something to say, say it."

"It's just that I've heard rumours..."

"About me and Zurg?"

His eyes narrowed. "So it's true?"

Vicki studied his face. There was an innate earnestness etched into it, the goody-goody kind that made you just want to gag. It was ironic—if circumstances had been different, _he_ might have been the one the rumours were about. Her managers were always pushing her towards famous men. They would've loved the publicity a fling with Buzz Lightyear would have provided. She was glad it had never worked out that way.

"Who cares?" She dismissed him with a shrug. "That's, like, _so_ not your business."

"Zurg is everyone's business, _especially_ mine," he insisted.

"Uh-huh."

"And if you're somehow involved with him—"

"I didn't say that."

"But if so," Buzz continued, "you need to seriously re-evaluate your choices. Zurg is an evil emperor—a monster who destroys everything he touches. Believe me, young lady, that's not something you want any part of."

"Okay, first, don't you dare call me young lady ever again. Second, whatever my choices may be, they're my own. So I don't need your lame Space Ranger advice, got it?"

The man sighed. "I just want to help you—that's my duty as a Ranger, after all. And I think, deep down, underneath all the expensive clothes and the attitude, you're probably a good person."

Vicki had to stifle a laugh. "Is that how you Rangers see the universe? Good guys and bad guys? Come _on_. What about those of us who just don't give a crap?"

"There isn't a third option. You either make a choice to do good, or you're part of the problem."

Any retort she could have made was cut off by a deafening boom as the whole room lurched forward, plates and silverware flying off tables.

Vicki steadied herself against her own table. "What. In. The. Galaxy?"

Lightyear had already sprung to his feet. "Rangers! Report?"

"We're under attack!" The Tangean woman's words were underscored by another boom. Alarms began to blare and guests screamed. She pointed out the viewport at a vessel circling the station. "It looks like space pirates!"

"I knew it." Lightyear's eyes narrowed. "So many rich socialites in one place, chequebooks in hand... the perfect target for raiders looking to clean out."

"Are you gonna _do_ something?" Vicki demanded as the room shook again.

"Rangers, to the launch bay! We'll let these pirates know they're not on the guest list." He dashed forward, his team in tow behind him. Outside, the ship was making another run past the station, swooping in for the attack.

A fireball erupted, encompassing the entire viewport and bathing the room in orange light. Shielding her eyes, Vicki braced for impact, knowing it wouldn't make a difference if the window's integrity failed.

She waited several seconds and then opened her eyes. The explosion had faded, revealing the floating debris of the pirate ship. Shrapnel thunked harmlessly against the viewport. Where the pirates had once been was now a larger vessel. A purple cruiser.

Lightyear, who had been halfway to the door, was staring out at it. "Zurg."

"Uh-oh," the Jo-Adian whimpered.

The cruiser remained still, filling up the window. A giant, imposing Z glared out from its side. Vicki watched it. She had no idea what it was going to do, or why it was even there.

The thrusters fired up and it turned away, disappearing into hyperspace.

After a long, long minute, the room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Well," said the robot Ranger, "guess that takes care of our pirate problem."

"But why?" the Tangean asked. "Why would _Zurg_ save us?"

Lightyear said nothing, but he turned back to the main table. Vicki met his gaze. She smiled.

* * *

"You wanted something?" Zurg was draped across his throne, his claws drumming metallically on the armrest.

The click of Vicki's heels added their own echo to the palace throne room as she approached him. She put her hands on her hips. "Yeah. Let's talk."

"I'm busy." He sat up, his expression darkening. "I happened to be in the middle of a vital strategy meeting when you arrived. You may _think_ you can just waltz in uninvited whenever you feel like it, but you'll find my patience has limits. Especially when I have a universe to conquer!"

She hesitated, but only for a moment. "I've been thinking."

"About that new quantum warhead, I hope?"

"Nah, lame."

"Then you'd better make it quick."

Clearly she hadn't chosen to best time to approach him. Still, she was Vicki Vortex, and she was determined to say what she'd come to say. "Pirates attacked the gala last night."

"How dreadful."

"But someone stopped them."

"Buzz Lightyear to the rescue?"

She rolled her eyes. "As if. It was one of your ships. You saved us. Me."

"Did I?" He shrugged. "I might have sent a ship to keep an eye on things. All those rich philanthropists in one spot—it was just asking for trouble. And it wouldn't do for one of my top employees to be killed before she could design that new warhead for me."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to say thanks. And..." Vicki took a deep breath. "It got me thinking. If you could take care of them, you could take care of other people too, right?"

Zurg narrowed his eyes. "What other people? Are you in some kind of trouble, Vortex?"

"Not exactly, but... look, you're not the only one with rivals, y'know? That cow Tiffany Meridian has been plastering her fat face everywhere ever since she got that deal promoting Crater Cola, and now she's talking about going after the Miss Galaxy title. _Her_! Like, gag."

A long sigh. "Let me get this straight." Zurg tapped his claws together. "You want me to have people killed so you can advance your modelling career?"

Well, sure, it sounded like crap when _he_ said it, thought Vicki. Though his description did have a certain thrill to it. "Um, basically."

Zurg's face stretched slowly into a what might have been a smile "You really _are_ the most self-centred person I've ever met, Vicki."

"Is that a yes?"

The smile dropped abruptly. "And why should I help you? What do _I_ get out of it?"

This wasn't a question Vicki had considered yet. Perhaps it was years of having her every whim catered to, or perhaps it was because he'd always been so accommodating in the past, but she had simply assumed he would say yes. "Dude, I'm just asking for a little favour!"

"I'm running an evil empire, not a charity," he sneered. "Your 'little favour' will cost me valuable time and resources. What can you offer me in return?"

"Hey, I've helped you out before!"

"Your point?"

"Come on, Zurg," she pouted. "Please? Can't you just do this one teeny tiny thing for me?"

He was unmoved.

She sighed. "All right, what do you want from me exactly?"

The emperor paused, sinking back against his throne, apparently considering.

_Maybe this is the day I find out where we stand_ , Vicki thought. Months of working together and multiple dinner dates, and yet she still wasn't sure if she was more than just a business partner to him. But if he was waiting for the right moment to make a move, he would never get a better chance. It wouldn't be the first time she'd used sex to get her own way, and for once she might not even mind.

Zurg rose from the throne. He slowly followed the steps down to the floor, coming to a stop where she stood. "You know, Vicki," he said, uttering her name with the same level of scorn she remembered from his greeting to Rentwhistle Swack, "I almost thought, for a while, that you might be different. But you're just like everyone else."

Vicki's every instinct was telling her to back away from the dark figure looming over her, but she leaned in, mere inches from the emperor. "Excuse me? I'm Vicki Vortex. Vicki frickin' Vortex!"

"And I'm the Evil Emperor Zurg! I don't owe you a _thing_."

For once in her life, Vicki didn't know what to say. She always got what she wanted. Always. Right?

"Now go away, and let me get on with things that actually matter."

She tightened her hand into a fist. "No."

" _No_?" If she was unaccustomed to being refused, he seemed equally so.

"I asked you for a favour, Zurg, and I'm getting it." She circled around him. "Guess what? I _know_ I have something you want—that's why you let me waltz in here. That's why we're working together. I'm the one supplying you with the upgrades you need to stay one step ahead of Star Command!"

"So what? That has nothing to do with this—I already pay you for your work!"

She smiled. "Keep your lousy money. Do I look like I need it? You want that new warhead, you better start doing what I say!"

He waved a metal claw in her face. "We have a contract. I'm sure you know by now how I deal with people who go back on their word."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"I know." Zurg shook his head. "That's why I liked you—we were partners. But you're just another snivelling little hanger-on, aren't you? And I have enough of those already. Get out!" He snapped his fingers, and a pair of Hornets appeared.

Vicki looked at her robotic escorts. She still had a chance to walk away quietly. "All right, fine," she said. "You're right! You don't owe me anything!" She leaned forward. "But someone once told me it doesn't _matter_ what we're owed. It's up to us to take what we want _._ I'm not one of your sycophants, Zurg! I'm not trying to suck up to you! I'm making a demand, because that's what people like us _do_!"

He stared at her for a long moment, his smouldering red eyes impossible to read. "How soon could you have the plans for that warhead ready?" he finally asked.

She blinked. "Uh, tomorrow, I guess, if I, like, made an effort."

"Be here first thing tomorrow then. We'll go over it." He paused. "And update your resume. I have a feeling Crater Cola will soon have an opening."

Vicki broke into a grin. "Sure thing, Emperor Zurg."

"Uh!" He waggled a finger.

"Sorry. Evil Emperor Zurg."

"No, just Zurg." And as he turned away, she could have sworn he was smiling.

* * *

Shutting the door behind her, Vicki slumped against the hotel suite's bar and rubbed her temples. She'd been out a lot later than she'd intended.

"How was the party?"

She frowned. "Lights."

The room was promptly illuminated, revealing a familiar robed figure standing in the corner. She rolled her eyes. "For once maybe you could just _ask_ to come over like a normal person."

"Kentrix should invest in better hotel security."

"Fair point. Maybe we can sell him some." She tossed her purse on the sofa and poured a drink from the bar, knowing better than to offer Zurg any. "So what's up?"

"Nothing, really," Zurg admitted, stepping out of the shadows. "I simply happened to be on the planet—I have business of my own with Keno Kentrix—and thought I'd drop by."

"Missing me?"

"Hardly. But it was either visit you or spend the evening with Darkmatter, and that's not much of a choice at all."

"Why didn't you two come round to the party? I messaged you about it, but you didn't answer. You know I _so_ hate it when you do that."

"I had more important business to attend to." He shrugged. "Besides, an evil emperor tends to attract a bit of attention, and Kentrix is _supposed_ to be a respectable businessman. It wouldn't do to make our association public."

"Gosh, I'm glad I've never had to worry about being respectable." Giggling, she raised the glass to her lips. Her head was still spinning from the Blue Pulsar she'd had at the bar, but free booze was free booze. "Keno liked my work, by the way. I'm going to be all over his new marketing campaign."

Zurg nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't have recommended subpar talent to one of my key manufacturing partners, now would I?"

She laughed. "So how did the deal go? Is he gonna start building those warheads for us?"

"The fish drives a hard bargain, but yes, we came to an arrangement. They're set to enter production next month."

"Awesome. Any plans for them yet?"

"A few," he said. "Top secret plans."

Vicki raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust me?"

"Not even slightly."

"See, this is why I know you're gonna beat Lightyear one day," she said, downing the last of her drink. "That guy is _way_ too naive, but you get it."

Zurg folded his arms. "And when I do defeat Lightyear and conquer the galaxy, what then, Vicki? What will you do?"

"Oh, I dunno," she grinned, "I figured I might be, like, evil empress or something."

Zurg snorted. "I wouldn't count on it. That offer to join my staff full-time remains open, however."

"Yeah. Maybe." She looked away. "Guess there wouldn't be much call for supermodels in this empire of yours."

"No," he agreed. "But there might be for evil geniuses."

"Yeah." Vicki chewed her lip. "And... you'll always need a spokesperson, right?"

"Exactly. Good help is hard to find."

"Good thing I'm a woman of many talents then."

"And the universe would finally know it."

"Yeah... yeah, they would." She tightened her grip on the glass she was still holding. "And if they didn't know me before, they will when I'm done."

"You'll go far in this organisation yet, Vortex."

Vicki smiled. It was funny. She'd spent a long time wondering what the two of them were exactly. Zurg had never clarified—relationships weren't really his thing. But they were _something_. She realised that was enough. And maybe the definition she liked best was the one he'd offered Torque so long ago.

They were partners.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a fic I started in 2012, abandoned, started again from scratch in 2015, abandoned, then revised and finally completed this year. It's been through so many drafts and permutations and could probably go through many more before I would be happy with it, but I've decided to finally release it into the world.
> 
> I've always seen Zurg as pretty asexual/aromantic, so the idea of shipping him with anyone isn't really my thing. But I like to challenge myself by writing ideas or characters I'm not into and giving my own take on them, and this seemed like a fun opportunity to do that. Why was Zurg of all people on a date with a supermodel in that one ep? Could you write a shippy Zurg fic and still keep it in-character? That's what I set out to discover.
> 
> I had a lot of fun fleshing out Vicki. She's not really an actual character in the show - just a supermodel stereotype used for a couple of kinda sexist gags (XR accessing her unlisted phone number, handing it out, and then calling her is pretty creepy if you think about it). I went through several different versions of her personality, but always kept the idea of her being an inventor because it gave Zurg a reason to get to know her. She was initially a much nicer person who would slowly descend into darkness, but I couldn't get that to work. I had more fun once I decided, "Oh, she's already terrible. She and Zurg deserve each other." I did still want her to be complicated, maybe momentarily sympathetic, but she had to ultimately be rotten.
> 
> I'm sad to finally be giving her up, because she's one of my favourite characters I've written and I doubt I'll ever have reason to write her again. This fic has been on my mind for eight years, and kinda morphed beyond what I was originally planning - it's not nearly as Zurg-centric, for one thing - which is why I have a lot to say about it. At this point I have no idea if it's actually *good*, and I can't imagine there's a large audience for what's basically a character piece on a throwaway character from a random episode of an obscure twenty-year-old cartoon show, but if you read this far, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
